Chapter 324 - The Brink (Patreon)

As the unicorn galloped closer, Zeke allowed himself the instant of focus necessary to get a good look at the thing. And when he finally beheld every detail, he was forced to suppress a shudder of pure revulsion.

The sleek, black creature was skeletally thin, as if it was on the edge of starvation. With lean, stringy muscles that writhed with every galloping step, it cut a wholly disgusting figure. Even worse, its skin was covered in lesions, some as wide as Zeke’s hand and twice as long, from which seeped red blood. It was enough to make him wonder if the creature was already dying; if so, he could simply wait it out.

“They’re always like that,” said Eveline in his mind. It was the only way she could communicate in the short span of time they had available. “Some say they were once natives of Heaven, but they were twisted and corrupted by demonic influences. I think they were made like this.”

“Good to know,” was Zeke’s non-verbal response.

Over the demonic monster’s frail-looking form was a black, metal skeleton that encased its form like natural armor. Even through the raging inferno of the unicorn’s flames, he could see where the armor pierced the monster’s body, suggesting that it had been grown. Its lone horn was made of similar metal, though it was jagged and barbed, as if it had been roughly hewn by a novice blacksmith.

The sound of the equine hooves thundered through the chamber, and Zeke braced. However, before he could even set his feet, the creature disappeared in a puff of thick, black smoke. An instant later, something ripped into Zeke’s back. He let out a grunt – he’d endured much worse, and recently – as he was thrown free by the blow’s momentum. As he went flying through the air, he twisted just enough that he managed to crash into one of the pillars shoulder-first. The air was driven from his lungs by the force of the collision, and he tumbled to the ground, gasping from breath.

But he didn’t have time to recover before another attack lanced through him, followed by the trampling force of the creature’s thudding hooves. Zeke rolled with the momentum, but he could feel his bones creak with every footfall. With a seed of anxiety threatening to bloom into full-blown panic, Zeke yanked on the earthen energy within his golems’ cores, desperately healing the injuries he’d sustained.

Only a couple of seconds had passed, and already, he’d been forced to play one of his cards.

“It’s really not going well, is it?” said Eveline. “Oh, it’s coming again. Did I mention that some unicorns are known for being capable of short-range teleportation?”

“Nope,” Zeke mentally groaned. “Must’ve missed that little tidbit.”

“Well, now you know.”

“And knowing is half the battle,” Zeke muttered, this time aloud. He looked up to see that his golems had joined the fight, throwing themselves at the grotesque unicorn. However, Zeke was distressed to see that, already, the monster’s fiery aura had begun to affect them. Their bronze forms were practically glowing with conducted heat, telling him that they wouldn’t last much longer.

Knowing that he couldn’t afford to lose them before draining their cores, Zeke called them off. For a moment, the unicorn attempted to chase the golems as they backed away, but it was intelligent enough to recognize that they were only minions.

“But not smart enough to see that they’re vitally important to your fighting style. If we can even call banging your head against a wall a style,” said Eveline.

Zeke ignored her, pushing himself to his feet. He continued to drag earth attuned mana from the golems, but his recovery was far slower than it should have been. He was just about to ask Eveline what was going on when he remembered her previous warning that unicorns were capable of draining vital energy from their victims.

“Well, shit,” he mumbled, tightening his grip on his hammer as the unicorn wheeled around, preparing for another charge. Zeke set his feet, putting his back against the pillar. The creature charged, is flames flaring as it sped in his direction. Just as it had before, when it drew within range, the unicorn disappeared in a puff of smoke.

But this time, Zeke was ready.

He only had an instant’s warning, but that was enough to send him dodging to the side just in time to avoid the creature’s slashing horn. But avoidance was never Zeke’s primary concern. Instead, he reared back, and in a sweeping swing he’d practiced a million times before, he sent the head of his hammer crashing into the unicorn’s side. The sound of metal against metal rang through the chamber, loud enough that it sent a spike of pain through Zeke’s brain, and the unicorn’s metallic bone armor twisted under the impact. More importantly, the force of the swing sent the unicorn skipping across the room until it thudded against one of the columns.

For a moment, its flames guttered, and Zeke thought he’d won. But an instant later, they flared hotter than ever before, and he saw the huge dent he’d wrought twist back into its previous shape.

“Oh. They heal, too. I thought I mentioned that,” Eveline said. “Kind of a bad match-up for you, huh? Maybe if we were on the ground…”

Zeke didn’t need to listen to the end of that thought. Cut off from earth attuned mana, his ability to heal was limited. Sure, he could simply switch [Cambion’s Awakening] to its demonic form, but that came with plenty of downsides – most notably, that it tended to eat his body from the inside out. Of lesser concern was the fact that it almost always ended with him beset by mindless fury.

So, unless he wanted to spend a few days engulfed by incoherent rage, that just wasn’t an option.

No – if he was going to win the fight without resorting to that, he needed to break out his most powerful attack. In the past week or so, he’d fought multiple battles against powerful opponents, but he’d yet to use [Unleash Momentum]. That meant he had plenty of stored force at his disposal.

He didn’t want to use it. Not with one more battle looming before him. He had no clue what awaited on the final level, guarding the last cage of Eveline’s prison. And he’d intended to go into that fight armed with as much stored momentum as he could gather.

But things didn’t always work out like he wanted them to.

So, Zeke drained a little more earthen energy from his golems, fully healing his wounds before stepping forward. The unicorn had already climbed to its feet, and though it had yet to charge, Zeke could see the fiery anger burning behind its eyes. It wouldn’t be long before it attacked.

When it did, he would be ready.

The unicorn dug its hoof into the floor, dragging a deep furrow of now-melted tiles. It snorted, a few gouts of flames erupting from its wet nostrils. Its flames erupted into an inferno that scorched a third of the room, and then the monster whinnied, the sound like a hundred agonized screams.

Zeke flinched away from the unholy screech.

And the unicorn charged.

Zeke tightened his grip on his own emotions, priming his skills with every passing millisecond. The unicorn’s hooves thundered against the tiles, cracking and melting them with every galloping step. It lowered its horn, flaring its corona of flames even higher. Its skeletal armor glowed red-hot. Still, Zeke waited until the last possible second.

The moment it entered his range, Zeke let loose with [Center of Gravity], yanking the creature forward. Its hooves left the ground as it tipped forward, its jagged horn scraping against the floor. But still, it fell in Zeke’s direction, tumbling and turning as it lost its footing. Its panicked and screeching whinny pierced through Zeke’s eardrums, but he ignored it, waiting as it rocketed in his direction.

Then, as he’d predicted, the monster disappeared in a puff of smoke, appearing back where it had begun. However, there was nothing to stop its momentum, and it continued to fall toward Zeke until, once again, it tried to teleport away. [Center of Gravity] was relentless, though. The creature couldn’t escape. And each time it tried, it only served to give the skill more time to work toward terminal velocity. Zeke had to reapply it a couple of times, which meant creeping a little closer, but the unicorn was incapable of bringing its powers to bear. It was trapped in an endless loop; so long as Zeke kept the skill going, it was powerless.

But that wasn’t enough.

Zeke couldn’t just tie the thing up. He needed to defeat it. Otherwise, his progress to the top of the Spear would be barred. And if that happened, everything he’d done so far would have been for naught.

Besides – he wanted to kill the grotesque thing. Perhaps it was the bit of demon inside him, or maybe it was his competitive nature, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of ending the fight in a draw. In any case, he had a plan for how to end the fight.

Knowing he couldn’t keep it up forever – already his mana reserves were beginning to empty past the point of comfort – Zeke stepped forward. Then, he brough his second skill into the fight. As he released [Weight of Two Worlds], increasing the gravity in the area, Zeke manipulated his own weight to anchor himself to the ground. He felt like a mountain in the middle of a storm, immovable and unconquerable.

As the skill took hold, the floor rumbled. Pillars cracked under their own weight. And the unicorn’s flight grew heavier. So did Zeke, and when he hefted his hammer, it felt as if it bore the weight of the world. Or two worlds, as it happened.

Finally, Zeke embraced his Will, flooding his body with inert force. It begged to be let loose. To bring its essence to bear. To smash. To sunder. To move.

By that point, the unicorn was only a dozen feet away, its abyssal eyes wide with fear and a lack of understanding. It burned even hotter, but the flames couldn’t touch Zeke. If it was a good matchup for him, then he was a nightmare for it.

With so many skills and powers flowing through him, Zeke felt like someone was driving a spike into his brain. He could only split his concentration so many ways before his mind gave in. But he only needed one to extend one more branch, and then, he could rest.

Hopefully.

With the unicorn flying toward him at an unreal speed, Zeke embraced his final skill. With the weight of a mountain behind a simple swing of his hammer, he freed the momentum he’d stored over the course of the last nine fights. Hundreds of swings, each with his impressive strength behind them, all coalesced into a single force as [Unleash Momentum] rushed into reality.

On its own, the skill could destroy a castle wall. But augmented by Zeke’s increased weight, the force of his Will, the momentum of the unicorn’s horizontal fall, and, finally, the amplified gravity from [Weight of Two Worlds], it could crush a small mountain.

Or a grotesque mockery of a unicorn.

The sound of an avalanche roared through the chamber. The weakened pillars crumbled to dust. The floor was sundered, and a wide crevasse cut across the surface as it swept toward the falling unicorn. A shockwave tore through the chamber, but through an exertion of his Will, Zeke kept the skill mostly contained.

The unicorn took the blow head-on, and in only a moment, its skeletal armor exploded into shards of metal. The shrapnel tore through any pillars that remained standing, wreaking even more havoc along the way.  The creature’s skin was torn from its skull, then its neck, and then, the rest of its body, exposing stringy muscles and more black bone. Less than a millisecond later, the flesh followed suit. Then, its organs. Finally, when the wave of force passed, only the skeleton remained.

It crashed into the ground, skidding another few yards before coming to a rest in a pile of metal bones at a panting Zeke’s feet.

Zeke let out a sigh of relief, but it only lasted an instant before he saw the flame kindling within the creature’s skull. It flared, and before Zeke’s eyes, the unicorn began to rebuild itself. Zeke stared as the organs started to reform, and in a panic, he hefted his hammer and smashed it against the unicorn’s skull.

Like a blacksmith pounding a particularly tough ingot, Zeke swung his hammer with all of his strength. Once. Twice. Three times. Still, the creature continued to regenerate. By the fourth attack, its muscles had begun to reform, one strand at a time. Zeke knew that if he allowed it to complete the process, he would have no choice but to retreat or die. So, he redoubled his efforts, forcing his taxed Will into each blow.

His hammer continued to fall, augmented by the very concept of force, in one blow after another. And just as the unicorn’s tendons started to form, he broke through its skull. That was the beginning of the end, and that first crack soon spiderwebbed into a sizable rift. And when the metal bone completely shattered, it did so with an explosion of force and flame that sent Zeke flying backwards to land in a heap.

Scrambling to his feet, he rushed back to the unicorn, praying that he hadn’t lost too much ground. But by the time he reached the creature’s half-formed body, it had already started to rot.

“Its life force is spent,” provided Eveline. Idly, Zeke realized that she’d been speaking to him the whole time. Had she guided his hand? Was that why he’d attacked the skull? He couldn’t remember.

Finally, Zeke sank to the ground. The fight hadn’t really lasted that long, but the intensity of it – as well as his inability to regenerate via the earth-attuned version of [Cambion’s Awakening] had left him completely spent. Sitting with his legs splayed, Zeke’s shoulders sagged as he slumped in exhaustion.

Finally, he breathed, “That was very unpleasant.”

“Fighting a unicorn usually is. I’ve heard the heavenly ones are even more fearsome,” she said. “But that might just be demon myth talking.”

“I hope I never meet one, then,” Zeke muttered, already dragging the last bits of earth-attuned mana from his golems’ cores. It wasn’t enough to do much of anything, but still, it couldn’t hurt. After that, he sent them trudging back down the stairs to recharge on the ground. Meanwhile, he switched [Cambion’s Awakening] to the personal-mana fueled version, soothing his mind, soul, and body.

Lying back, he said, “I guess that’s it, then. One more level, and you’ll be free. What will you do?”

“I…I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t think we’d get this far, so I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Really? You’ve been imprisoned for centuries, right? You must’ve thought about it at least a little.”

“I think you underestimate the effect of a fragmented soul,” Eveline stated. “It’s…I could think. I could reason. But things…nothing was constant. I couldn’t hold onto anything for long. If I didn’t have you anchoring me, I would have already lost interest in this quest. Even with most of my soul reformed, I can’t…I have trouble remembering details of my old life. Like, when I saw that unicorn – I got bits and pieces, but it was as if I couldn’t remember anything until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“That…that must suck,” Zeke said, knowing that he’d understated it. For someone like Eveline, who was a creature of the mind, that was probably a horrifying circumstance. Strangely, it wasn’t so different from when, back on Earth, Zeke’s injury had ended his baseball career. Up until that point, he’d always taken his body for granted, and to suddenly have it betray him was a devastating loss. But Eveline’s situation was far, far worse, making the fact that Zeke had even compared the two somewhat embarrassing. More so because she could probably aware of it.

“It’s fine,” she said, waving away his concern. “It’ll be better once we finish your quest. You’ll go on to conquer the world, and I’ll…do something else. But for now, just rest. Recover. I get the feeling that the final floor will be…difficult for us both.”